Walking Tall

Yesterday, I was held up in traffic. It was a beautiful day, and I was rushing home from work to catch some evening sunshine. Traffic started to back up, so I looked ahead and saw a very tall woman walking a very small dog at a blinking crosswalk.

What caught my attention wasn't that she was so tall and that the dog was so little. It was that she was walking with such great confidence and straight posture. Chin raised, she was looking straight ahead. She wasn't rushing across the 5 lanes of traffic. She was actually sauntering like she meant it and enjoying her stroll with her little pooch.

As traffic resumed, I thought about how poised she looked. I have crossed in heavy traffic at crosswalks before, but I know I have done so almost apologetically – like the proverbial skittery chicken crossing the road. Like I am so sorry, people. I know I am holding up traffic. I’ll hurry across as fast as I can.

I feel self-conscious. My posture probably sucks. Hurry-scurry. My head is probably down, and I know that I am moving more quickly than I would if I were walking across a sunny field of grazing cows or strolling along a riverside trail. The thought occurred to me: Why do I feel like such a nerd for holding up traffic?

So, today . . . I was out walking my little dog Valentino and I came to a crosswalk that connects to the interurban trail. I stood on the side of the busy street and the first car went blowing by. Another car went past without stopping. Okay, I won't take that personally. This went on for almost a minute until a driver saw us and stopped. It was the cue that the other drivers needed, and they began to slow and stop. Thinking of the woman I saw the other day, I walked with vigor and buoyancy across the street.

Now, I am not a fraction of an inch over 5'3" – but I felt taller. On the inside, that is. One driver even waved hello. Maybe because my dog is such a goofy mix of genetics but then again maybe not. Maybe this driver noticed that I was paying attention to her kind courtesy of stopping and not being all hurry-scurry. We smiled at each other. I finished crossing the street. She drove off.

This action truly did not require any measure of courage from me, but making this conscious shift in attitude caught my soul's attention. It caused me to wonder about all of those times I have felt apologetic for simply being human. Like making a mistake at work or blurting something benign without thinking. Like burning the birthday cake or backing into my neighbor's parked car. All of these *ouch* moments that only mean that I am human.

Paying attention means walking tall. And walking tall means giving up on my default to apologize. And giving up on my apology-default means making small connections with others here and there. It allows me to embrace that small part of myself that sometimes feels like a pain in the ass.

Maybe I am the only one who feels this way on occasion, but there you have it. I write this and take the risk. I don't apologize for being transparent. Perhaps by saying these words aloud, they might speak to someone else who also hurries across the street.

Walk tall. Wear who you are on the inside on the outside, too. You are an ultra-cool person with so many experiences. There is boldness in claiming who you are and rewards in looking up and gifts in walking tall.